


Ghost Story

by deadhuntress



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (but not much), But it's actually not, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Death believed to be suicide, Established Relationship, Homophobia, M/M, Possession, Secret Relationship, Supernatural Prompt Challenge October 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-27 19:22:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8413621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadhuntress/pseuds/deadhuntress
Summary: The Winchesters investigate a death that appears to be a suicide but turns out to be the latest in a century-long series of similar deaths.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the [Supernatural Prompt Challenge](http://supernaturalpromptchallenge.tumblr.com) for October 2016.  
> Theme: Horror  
> Prompt: Possessed

**April 22, 1911**

_The dining room was quiet as the family began eating their supper, the clinks of forks and glasses the only sounds to be heard on the peaceful Thursday night. They all ate hungrily, except for the younger daughter, who still sat with an empty plate and full water glass as she stared serenely in front of her._

_“Flora?” the mother finally spoke, noticing her daughter’s odd behavior. “Are you feeling all right? Why aren’t you eating?”_

_Flora grinned wickedly, eyes flashing black for the briefest of moments._

_“Flora’s not here right now,” she said, in a voice that was not quite her own. “Although,” she continued, tilting her head in thought, “I like that name. I think I’ll keep it.”_

_Forks clattered noisily onto plates and the mother and sister gasped, while the little brother tugged on Flora’s dress._

_“Flora?” he said in a soft voice. “Why does your voice sound strange?”_

_Flora turned her head to look at him. “Because,” she said, putting her hands on either side of her head and smiling sweetly, “I’m not Flora.”_

_Before there was time to react, she had twisted her hands and cracked her neck, leaving behind screams and tears and confusion in the little house._

~~~

**Present Day**

“So what happened last week, sheriff?” Dean asked, following her into her office and glancing through the police report she’d just handed him.

“We don’t know exactly,” the sheriff replied. “We received a call from Mrs. Johnson at seven-thirty saying that her husband had just killed himself. Paramedics raced over to the house and sure enough, Mr. Johnson was dead, neck broken, and Mrs. Johnson was nearly inconsolable. She and her son are staying with her sister for now.” She gave them an inquisitive glance. “I don’t know why the FBI is investigating,” she remarked. “It appears to be a suicide.”

“We just do what we’re told,” Sam replied, giving her a practiced smile. “Thanks for your help.”

The sheriff nodded. “Sure thing. Call my office if you need anything else.”

\---

“So why _are_ we here?” Dean asked as he backed the Impala out of a parking spot and headed to a diner a few blocks away. “Suicide’s not exactly our thing.”

“I told you, Dean,” Sam said. “It’s extremely difficult, maybe even impossible, to break your own neck, and there are much easier and more effective ways to commit suicide. And this isn’t the first strange death in that house.”

“What’s strange is that you know that,” Dean muttered. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam give him a dirty look. “All right, all right,” Dean said, holding up a hand. “Don’t get your panties in a twist. We’ll do more investigating after lunch; you and Cas head to the library and mom and I’ll go talk to the family.”

“Sounds good,” Sam agreed as Dean swiftly pulled into a parking spot. He followed Dean to a booth in the back, where they could see Castiel and Mary already waiting.

“What did you find out?” Mary asked when they sat down. She was mindlessly stirring a cup of coffee, looking like she’d been deep in thought.

“Not much,” Sam replied. “Victim was the pastor of one of the local churches, real uptight, traditional guy, and then one night decides to snap his own neck at dinner, which is almost impossible for someone to do to themselves.”

“His neck was definitely snapped,” Castiel confirmed. “But there was a strange black substance present on the body as well, similar to very thick jelly.”

“Ectoplasm?” Dean asked, and Mary nodded.                                                                         

“Sure looked like it,” she said.

Dean frowned in thought. “Interesting.”

Fifteen minutes later, when their food had arrived and they – with the exception of Castiel – were scarfing it down hungrily, Dean caught Mary’s gaze.

“Sam and I figure you and I can go talk to the family while he and Cas hit the books,” he said, raising his eyebrows to make sure she agreed.

She nodded. “Where does the family live?”

“Other side of town,” Dean replied. “So,” he continued, addressing the table, “we’ll leave after lunch, Mom and I can pick up dinner on the way back to the motel. Sound good?”

Everyone nodded and then continued chatting until they had finished eating and headed off in separate directions.

\---

The remaining Johnsons were staying in a small house on the far edge of town that was neat and well-kept despite the general somber mood that pervaded the home. Mrs. Johnson allowed them in and offered them coffee, which her sister insisted on making while the others talked.

“I just don’t understand,” Mrs. Johnson said quietly once they’d all sat down. “I know that suicide doesn’t make sense, but… Rodney had no reason to kill himself.” Her voice caught slightly on the word “kill” and she took a deep breath. “He was so well-loved. He’s been the pastor of our church for seventeen years and you can ask anyone – he was a great man. He had no enemies,” she continued, answering Dean’s next question. “I mean, he and Jake… didn’t always agree on things. But Rodney loved him,” she said firmly.

“Who is Jake?” Mary asked, tilting her head in question.

“Our son,” Mrs. Johnson said. “He’s around here somewhere. His friend Caleb has been coming over a lot. They’re such close friends; I’m glad Jake has someone to support him. He’s been very quiet ever since… well.” She was silent for a long moment.

“Do you mind if I talk to Jake?” Dean asked after a few seconds, standing when she nodded and directed him to Jake’s bedroom.

Dean climbed the stairs and made his way down the hallway, knocking gently on the door at the end of the hall and pushing it open when he heard a quiet, “Come in.”

“Which one of you is Jake?” Dean asked the two boys, who were sitting next to each other on the bed, leaned against the headboard.

“Me,” the darker-haired boy said. “Who are you?”

Dean gave the boy a friendly smile. “Agent Hutton,” he said. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you a few questions about your dad.”

Jake shared a silent glance with his friend – Caleb, Dean assumed – and finally nodded.

“What was your dad like?” Dean asked.

Jake looked at Caleb again before speaking. “He was… strong-willed, passionate… set in his ways. Conservative. He loved my mom.”

Dean noticed that Jake didn’t include himself in that statement but said nothing. “And did you two get along well?” he asked, noticing Caleb’s hand twitch at the question.

Jake shrugged. “We didn’t really have a lot in common,” he said. “He didn’t – um, we… we were different.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Different?”

“Yeah,” Jake confirmed, but he didn’t offer any more information.

“Now, did your dad have any enemies?” Dean asked. “Anyone that might want to hurt him?”

Jake snorted derisively. “Everyone loved him.” Again, he said nothing more and Dean didn’t press.

“Anything else you want to want to add?” Dean asked.

Jake shook his head. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone,” he said, politely but directly ending the conversation.

“Okay,” Dean said. “Well, if you think of anything else, your mom has my number.” He left, gently closing the door behind him, but paused in the hallway. There was something familiar in the way Jake acted, the way he and Caleb looked at each other, but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

\---

“Find out anything interesting?” Sam asked when Dean and Mary walked into the motel room carrying stuffed bags of food.

“Well, Mrs. Johnson wasn’t much help. Loved her husband, thinks everyone else did too…” Mary remarked. “A little deluded, perhaps, but I don’t think she had anything to do with it. However, she did say that right before Rodney killed himself the room got cold enough to see her breath and the lights flickered.”

“So probably a ghost then,” Sam said, accepting the salad Dean handed to him and mixing it as he tilted his head thoughtfully.

Dean noticed the look on his face. “What, you don’t think it’s a ghost?” he asked. “We’ve got all the signs of ghost possession.”

Sam shook his head. “No, no… I agree, it’s just… well.” He took a bite of his salad before continuing. “It’s interesting,” he said. “Cas and I looked into the history of the house. There have been seven deaths in the past hundred and five years, all ruled as suicides where the victims broke their own necks.”

“But?” Dean asked, knowing that tone of voice.

Castiel spoke up. “All of the reports described the chilly room and flickering lights that indicate the presence of a ghost,” he said. “Except the first one.”

“What did the first one describe?” Mary asked with a curious frown.

Sam pulled out a copy of the newspaper. “The victim, Flora Henderson, age 19, twisted her own neck in apparent suicide,” he read. “However, the family reports that just before her death, the victim was acting strangely. Her mom was quoted as saying, ‘Flora wasn’t eating her dinner and when I commented on it, she told us that she wasn’t Flora. Her voice sounded different and I could have sworn I saw her eyes flash black.’” Sam raised his eyebrows. “That one sounds like a demon,” he said.

“Yeah, but demons usually like to keep their meat-suits alive,” Dean replied through a bite of burger. “Why would that one kill the vessel?”

“Perhaps the demon was under orders,” Castiel offered. “It’s possible that someone summoned the demon in order to murder Flora.”

“He’s right,” Sam added.

“Okay,” Dean agreed. “So who summoned the demon then? And why?”

“Don’t know,” Sam said. “And why does the first one look like a demon but all the others look like ghost possession?”

“Could it be Flora’s ghost doing the possessing?” Mary suggested. “Maybe she was angry enough at being murdered that she stayed in the house as a vengeful spirit.”

“So the initial death was murder-by-demon and then her ghost stayed to have a little more fun?” Dean clarified. He shrugged. “It’s possible.”

“I guess we should look into it more tomorrow,” Sam said. “Maybe try to find something linking all the victims.”

Mary nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

\---

Upon returning to the room that he and Castiel were sharing, Dean immediately headed for the shower, craving the warmth and relaxation of the water cascading over his body. He stayed until the water ran cold, then finally dried himself off and entered the main room to find some clothes.

“Are you all right, Dean?” Castiel asked from where he was reclined comfortably on one of the beds.

“Course I am,” Dean replied as he exchanged his towel for a clean pair of boxers. “Why?”

“You’ve been quiet since we got back,” Castiel said. “You usually spend at least five minutes kissing me whenever we get time alone, but you went straight to the shower. I’m not upset,” he clarified at Dean’s guilty expression. “I’m just concerned. Is something on your mind?”

Dean hesitated, halfway through pulling a t-shirt over his head. “I talked to the guy’s son, Jake?” he said. He finished putting on the shirt and crossed the room, sinking onto the bed and allowing Castiel to pull him into his arms. “It was clear he didn’t get along with his dad. Said he and his dad were different, didn’t have a lot in common.”

“He wouldn’t be the only one,” Castiel said, expression making it clear that he wasn’t sure where Dean was going with this.

“It’s not that, though,” Dean said, shaking his head. “Not completely.” He was silent for a long moment but Castiel waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts, trailing a finger lightly up and down Dean’s forearm.

“Mrs. Johnson said that Jake’s friend Caleb had been over a lot,” Dean said finally. “She said they were very close friends, and he was there when I talked to Jake,” he continued. “But there was this weird… I dunno, _tension_ or something in the room. They kept sharing these glances. There was definitely something going on between them. And at one point Caleb’s hand twitched, like he…” Dean trailed off at a sudden realization.

“What is it?” Castiel asked curiously.

Dean tilted his head up to gaze into the angel’s eyes. “I think they’re _dating_ ,” he said slowly. “The way they interacted seemed familiar,” he continued. “I couldn’t figure out why, but… it reminded me of _us_ ,” he explained. “Long glances, being careful around other people… Caleb’s hand twitched like he wanted to grab Jake’s. I think Caleb is Jake’s _boyfriend_.”

“That may be a reason that Jake didn’t get along with his dad then,” Castiel suggested. “Perhaps his dad found out and didn’t approve.”

“Jake said his dad was conservative and set in his ways,” Dean agreed. “It makes sense. I think we need to do some more investigating tomorrow.” He rolled over so that he was on top of Castiel. “Now, though,” he said with a mischievous grin. “I think I owe you some kisses.”

\---

The next morning found the four hunters staked out in a corner of the library, researching all of the victims. Dean hadn’t mentioned what he and Castiel had realized the night before, hoping to find information to support his conclusions before bringing that subject up. He was wary of Sam or his mom asking too many questions or guessing that Dean’s assessment of the situation was largely based on his own relationship. Not that he thought his brother and mother would react badly if they found out he and Castiel were together, but… what if they did? Dean didn’t know if he could live with that, hence the secretiveness regarding their relationship status.

At the library, he and Castiel set to work skimming old digitized records of the deaths for any information on the relationships of the victims or their families, though it would be difficult, Dean knew, to find out whether there were any same-sex couples, since at that time it was unlikely to be mentioned, at least not directly.

He pointed to a line on the page he and Cas were currently reading. “The victim’s son had recently been disowned due to his ‘nontraditional relationship,’ according to the wife of the victim,” he read softly. “So the first ghost possession victim’s son was with another man.”

Castiel nodded in agreement. “It certainly appears that way.”

After another two hours, they’d managed to discover that all of the victims had a child who was (or was almost definitely) in a relationship with a same-sex partner. “So,” Dean said, quietly enough that Sam and Mary couldn’t hear them, “maybe all the people that died disapproved of their kids’ relationships?”

“So Flora’s ghost targets homophobic people,” Castiel guessed.

Dean huffed. “Maybe we should let her go,” he said, only partly joking.

“Dean,” Castiel admonished, but there was the hint of a smile on his face. His hand grasped Dean’s leg under the table, thumb rubbing gentle circles over Dean’s thigh through his jeans. Dean longed to close the few inches between them but they were in public, and all his family had to do was look up and they’d be found out. Dean settled for covering Castiel’s hand with his own and tossed his pencil in Sam’s direction, smirking when his brother jumped.

“Find anything?” he asked.

Sam shrugged. “There’s not a whole lot to go on,” he said. “Although this article said that Flora’s father never made a statement and refused to talk about her death.”

“Huh,” Dean said. “That could be something.”

“Not much,” Sam replied. “I think I wanna take a closer look at the house,” he added. “Maybe there’s something left of Flora’s.”

“How about mom goes with you?” Dean suggested. “I want to talk to Mrs. Johnson’s son again. I think he might know something.” He tossed Sam the keys to the Impala while they straightened up the area. “Cas and I’ll meet you for dinner,” he said.

Sam nodded and after a quick glance around to make sure nobody could see them, Castiel placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder and they were at the house.

\---

“Patricia isn’t here right now.”

Dean gave Mrs. Johnson’s sister a friendly smile. “We actually wanted to talk to Jake,” he said. “Is he here?”

The woman nodded. “I think he and Caleb are doing homework in his room,” she said. “You’re welcome to go talk to him.”

“Thanks,” Dean said, walking through the doorway and heading up the stairs as Castiel followed a few steps back. He could see even from down the hall that the door was open and had just lifted a hand to knock on the doorframe when the sight made him pause.

Jake and Caleb were in the room all right. But they weren’t doing homework.

Dean froze for a few seconds in surprise before his senses came back to him and he cleared his throat. At the sound, the two boys separated quickly, moving to sit on opposite sides of the bed with equally guilty and fearful expressions.

Dean raised his hands and shook his head. “We’re not here to hurt you, or get you in trouble,” he said. “Just wanna talk.” He took a slow step into the room with Castiel right behind him. “This is my partner, Agent Mercury,” he said. “He’s, uh… my partner in the professional sense, but also in a more personal sense.” After a few seconds, he saw the boys’ eyes widen in understanding, and they visibly relaxed.

“So,” Dean said, gesturing to the two boys. “You two are dating. In secret, I’m guessing.”

“My parents don’t approve of homosexual relationships,” Jake said flatly.

“But lemme guess, your dad found out about you two and didn’t react well?” Dean asked.

Jake nodded and grabbed Caleb’s hand. “He shouted at us and said we had to break up or he would kick me out. I told him we broke up but we didn’t. And then two days later, he killed himself.”

“How did he find out?” Castiel asked.

“He walked in on us kissing in the living room one night,” Jake answered. “He wasn’t supposed to be home for another hour.”

Just then, Dean’s phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and quickly answered it. “Find something?” he said, sending Castiel a glance. _Sam_ , he mouthed.

Sam’s reply came immediately. “Yeah, I found Flora’s old diary. I glanced through it and she uh… she described her relationship with someone she just called ‘J.’”

“J?” Dean repeated, raising an eyebrow.

~~~

**March 2, 1911**

_“You’re seeing who?”_

_Two girls sat on a bench in their local park, feeding the birds and gossiping in the late afternoon light. The younger one grinned._

_“Jenny Thomas!” she said in a hushed tone. “I’ve been over at her house frequently in the past couple months to help her with her English assignments. We became close friends, you know that.” The girl’s eyes sparkled even as she glanced around to make sure nobody was around them. “And then two months ago, she kissed me!”_

_The older girl’s eyes widened. “Flora!” she exclaimed, looking equal parts excited and disapproving._

_“I know!” the younger one replied. “She’s beautiful, and so sweet, and when we kiss it feels so natural, like I’m coming home.”_

_“Does anyone else know?” the older girl asked._

_The younger one shook her head. “Of course not, silly.” Her grin dimmed slightly. “We can’t exactly tell anyone, Margaret. Father would…” She paused. “I love her, Margaret. When I’ve saved enough money from working at the seamstress’ shop, we’re leaving. We’ll go West, live out in the country where no one can bother us.”_

_“Are you sure?” The older girl looked troubled, not at all consoled by her sister’s confidence._

_“You worry too much, Margaret. Promise you’ll come visit me?”_

_The older girl’s gaze softened and she laid her hand atop the younger one’s offered palm. “Of course, Flora.”_

~~~

**Present Day**

“So you’re saying Flora was dating a girl?”

Dean nodded, even though Sam couldn’t see him. “Aside from Flora, all of the victims were parents of children who were in same-sex relationships,” he said in a hushed tone from his spot in the hallway where hopefully nobody else could hear him. “And we think that all of the victims had recently found out and disapproved. Flora’s ghost targets homophobic people, Sam, because she was murdered by a disapproving parent, probably her dad.”

“Wow,” Sam said. He was silent for a moment and Dean could practically hear the gears turning in his brain. “Wait a minute. Dean. Does that mean Jake and Caleb are dating?”

“Yes,” Dean said, but just then he heard a loud slam – like a door – in the background of the call. He heard something that sounded like a muffled argument, and then, closer to the phone, “Who are you and what are you doing in my house?!”

Dean listened as Sam tried to explain to Mrs. Johnson who he was and what he and Mary were doing while she tried to kick them out. Finally, Sam apparently gave up and interrupted her.

“You’re in danger, Mrs. Johnson!” he said loudly. Her voice went silent. “Your husband was killed because he disapproved of your son’s relationship, and you might be next.”

There was a long silence before Dean heard her speak. “I… Killed? Because he disappr-? Jake’s not even dating anyone.”

“Yes he is,” Sam replied urgently. “He and Caleb are dating. This house is haunted; the ghost possessed your husband and killed him because he didn’t approve of Jake dating Caleb.”

Dean heard a small squeak and pictured Mrs. Johnson standing in front of Sam, eyes wide as she tried to process what he’d told her. _This is obviously a big shock to her_ , he thought derisively.

“Caleb? But Caleb is just his friend. Jake isn’t… he’s not… _you know_.”

Dean could hear the exasperation in Sam’s voice when he replied. “Well, he’s _something_ and he’s dating his best friend,” he said. “But that’s not important right now. The important thing is that we need to get you out of here before anything–”

Suddenly, the call cut off. “Sam?” Dean said urgently. “Sammy!”

All he heard was silence and he shoved his phone in his pocket before hurrying back to Jake’s room. “Cas, we gotta go,” he said, tugging the angel out of the room. “The Johnson’s house,” he said once they were out of sight of the two boys, and Castiel nodded and grabbed Dean’s hand.

\---

There were crashes and shouts coming from the dining room when they arrived and the two men hurried into the room, where they saw Sam and Mary struggling to restrain Mrs. Johnson – who had black goo dripping from her ears and eyes – and keep the ghost from killing her.

“Burning the diary didn’t work,” Sam grunted as Mrs. Johnson sent a well-aimed elbow to his stomach that had him bending over in pain. “She must be attached to something else.” Mary dodged a smack to the face but before she could recover, Mrs. Johnson kicked her, knocking her to the ground.

“Mom!” Dean exclaimed, hurrying towards her only to be thrown against the wall by the ghost. “Cas!” he shouted, nodding towards the woman, though Castiel was already at her side. He raised a hand to her forehead, eyes glowing icy blue as he pulled the spirit out of her body. The shadowy outline of a woman became visible, eyes sunken and hard as she glared at the group before she was consumed in fire and disappeared. Mrs. Johnson collapsed in Castiel’s arms and he gingerly carried her into the living room and rested her on the sofa as the others caught their breath.

\---

“You gonna be okay?”

Jake nodded at Dean’s question, sending Caleb a fond glance as he grabbed the other boy’s hand. “I don’t know how well Mom’s gonna adjust,” he admitted, “but we only have a few months of school left until graduation. I’ll be okay until then. I’ve got Caleb with me.” Caleb grinned and pressed his lips to Jake’s cheek.

“We’ll be fine,” he said to Dean, who nodded and gave them a knowing smile.

“If you need anything,” he said seriously, “just call. I’m happy to help.”

Jake nodded just as Castiel walked up behind Dean, curling his fingers into Dean’s and hovering close to Dean’s side. “Are you ready to leave?” he asked Dean, giving Jake and Caleb a small smile.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Dean agreed. “Good luck you two,” he said as they left.

\---

The mood in the motel room that Sam and Mary were sharing was… weird. When Dean and Castiel walked inside, Dean instantly felt eyes on the two of them.

“What?” he asked, probably too defensively judging by Sam’s raised eyebrows.

“Oh, nothing,” Sam said, his tone indicating that there was indeed something on his mind. “Just curious,” he continued finally, looking downright smug as he stared Dean in the eyes, “how you realized the connection between the vic’s.”

Dean refused to give in to what Sam was insinuating. “Figured out that Jake and Caleb were dating and did a little research on the previous deaths,” he replied.

“And how’d you figure out Jake and Caleb were dating?”

That stupid glint in Sam’s eye was really starting to irritate Dean. “I have highly developed observational skills, asshat.” He gave his brother a dirty look and spun on his heel, exiting the room the way he’d come in and heading across the hall.

The footsteps behind him told Dean that Castiel had followed him and sure enough, no sooner had Dean shrugged off his jacket than he felt strong arms wrap around his waist and warm lips press against his neck.

“Are you all right, Dean?” Castiel murmured, breath hot against Dean’s skin.

Dean nodded and covered Castiel’s hands with his own. “Not exactly how I imagined coming out to my family,” he said, allowing Castiel to nudge him toward the bed. They collapsed onto the admittedly lumpy mattress together and Dean rolled over to press his lips to Castiel’s.

“Somehow I don’t think Sam is surprised,” Castiel remarked when they separated. “And I believe Mary has adjusted enough to the world, and to me, to understand.”

“Hope so,” Dean replied with a sigh.

Castiel smiled at him. “Have faith, Dean,” he said, running his thumb over Dean’s cheek.

Dean rolled his eyes but smiled despite himself. “Yeah, okay, Cas,” he said. “Only for you.”

“Good,” Castiel replied, and that was the last word spoken for a very long while.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first case!fic I've ever written, so I hope it turned out well. I would have liked to add more but I was afraid of going over the word limit. I'm happy with it though.
> 
> Come find me on Tumblr at [thetideseternaltune](http://thetideseternaltune.tumblr.com/) (main blog) or [hunterangelkisses](http://hunterangelkisses.tumblr.com/) (SPN sideblog)!


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